


The Original - Double the Fun, Trouble to Come

by NightFoliage



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Feelings, Foursome, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, Paranoia, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Gravity Falls, Self-cest, Sex, Shower Sex, Stancest - Freeform, Stancest Secret Santa Exchange 2018, Temporary Amnesia, Twincest, copies of Stan and Ford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 12:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFoliage/pseuds/NightFoliage
Summary: *This is the original version of my fic: Double the Fun, Trouble to Come. It's shorter and less edited, but it flows differently from the rewrite so I thought I'd post it. Pretty much the same content.-000-Prompts:-Stan doesn't regain his memories but he ends up in a relationship with Ford anyway-Biker Stan-Stancest foursome with their copier clones-Old Stans after-sex fluff-Both Stans fall into the portal AUSummary: Stan looks up in the mirror one day and finds himself not knowing where he is or what’s going on. He instinctively bolts, but not before meeting his look-alike (what the fuck), who apparently knows what’s going on, and follows him for the ride. They hide out in the woods until Stan can calm down and figure out what’s happening.All he knows is that the forest is weird and his look-alike is being awfully nice.





	The Original - Double the Fun, Trouble to Come

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Double the Fun, But Trouble to Come](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584205) by [NightFoliage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFoliage/pseuds/NightFoliage). 



Stan finds himself standing in front of a sink, water rushing out of the tap. The water is warm and he has suds on him hands. He finds himself automatically rinsing them off, his hands moving on autopilot. Then he splashes some water on his face, which gets onto his glasses. 

“Yeesh.” 

As he wipes his glasses off, hands and face still wet, he’s feeling like it’s the start of a bad day. 

When his glasses, face, and hands are finally dry, he takes a look at himself in the mirror. 

He looks good. The thought comes out of nowhere, but it’s there and it fills him with warmth. Sure he has some wrinkles and his hair’s thinning, but he’s not doing to badly. Way better than in the past when he was thin and gaunt and-

Stan finds himself leaning over the sink, grabbing a hold of the bowl before he can fall over. 

His body wants to slide sideways, but he manages to hold on. However, his mind is already falling. There’s a massive abyss where his memories should be and he’s disorientated at the fact that there is absolutely nothing there. He knows he’s Stan, knows that he’s here and safe-

But then where is here?

He takes a look around: normal residential bathroom (not a prison, that was good), small, maybe on the older side, small window on the wall. Outside; it’s dark, but he can see that he’s in the middle of the woods, second floor. He’s far too high to make a jump, not with these old bones. 

It looks like he locked the door. Good, good, he can collect himself before leaving. He immediately swipes a bar of soap, and roll of toilet paper, and whatever little odds and ends into his pockets. Speaking of pockets…

He pulls out his wallet. Nothing unusual and a good amount of money. But then he pulls a crinkled up photo. Is this his family? He can’t- he doesn’t remember- he runs a finger across each of their faces. A young woman with fiery red hair, a young portly man with a big grin, two kids- twins, a boy and a girl. He doesn’t know why the detail of them being twins is important it just is. 

But then he sees the final person, a man with the same face as his. 

He’s a twin, too. 

Stan searches the man’s face. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for only that he’s looking for something. They look very similar with some negligible differences, his arm is slinged over his twins shoulder. Stan carefully places the photo back into its spot. 

Then he checks the walet for hidden compartments and finds some extra cash as well as a fake ID. Good. It’s enough. All he has to do is leave until he gets his bearings and his memories again. 

Simple. 

He opens the door and finds himself in a hallway. Slipping into closed bedroom, he looks for a few things to swipe, but then the door unlocks and opens. 

“Hey-“ 

The other man pauses once he sees him. Maybe it’s the wild look in his eyes (he’s caught before he can even get going), but the man immediately puts his hands up in a placating gesture. 

“You okay?” He says slowly. 

Stan stares at the man. Gray hair, in his sixty, glasses, same height, about the same weight, this man is probably his twin. 

“I’m fine- Ford.” 

The name rolls off his tongue before he questions it. Right. He’s Stan and his twin brother is Ford. 

His brother coughs, “Stanley, is everything all right?” 

The voice and words are familiar. His chest feels warm looking at him, but his mind doesn’t want to trust this person who’s essentially a stranger. 

“No,” Stan says with a shake of head. Because things aren’t alright. Somehow, he can admit that to this person. 

“Alright,” Ford says. 

Then he goes to the closet to pull out a jacket, a scarf, some gloves, socks, a pair of boots, and throws them at him. 

“What’s all this for?” Stan asks. 

“You need some fresh air, right? Then let’s get some fresh air. I’ll follow your lead,” Ford says. He starts pulling on a his own set of clothes. The ease of which he says it, loosens something in Stan’s chest. He can’t trust this guy yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t take advantage of him. He needs to gather more information, observe, and reassess. 

Stan gets dressed quickly, as does Ford. After he’s done, he’s handed a flashlights, which Stan stashes in his pocket. 

Somehow, Stan ends up taking lead. His muscle memory must still be active, because he knows the route out of the place. His body steps around creaky floorboards and he ducks into the shadows. He can’t help checking and rechecking his surroundings and reassessing the exits. Then they make their way outside. They must be in the middle of nowhere because it’s incredibly dark in the woods. 

He’s tempted to go towards civilization, but he doesn’t know his reputation here. One misstep is all it takes for things to go to hell. 

Into the woods it is. 

Stan doesn’t wait for his shadow to follow. Instead he let’s his gut lead. 

So he doesn’t notice that the guy following him has palmed his cell phone and has started messaging someone else…

-000-

“Hm…”

Ford considers the diagram on the blackboard. The position looks difficult but the mechanics are sound. However, he’s really not sure if it’s possible for an extended period of time. 

“Going with the simplest of positions may be best,” he finally says. “Unless you’re capable of being the one on top?”

“Actually, I should be able to take position one,” his copy replies. “Although it looks and feels like I have a working anatomy, I don’t actually have a back to throw out. This is quite doable.”

“Oh, well, then that solves everything. But just in case, let’s save it for last. I’m confident in my own flexibility, but I wonder about Stanley’s.”

“Agreed.”

Ford is about to draw another complicated sex position (something he’s only seen because he stumbled upon a very informative universe), when his cell phone buzzes. 

“Hold on, that’s Stan,” he says and goes to retrieve his phone. Perhaps his brother and his copy are ready for Ford and his copy? It’s a little early and Ford has a few other sex positions he wants to consider before the act, but he can’t say he isn’t excited. He’s been wanting to include the supernatural into their coitus routine for awhile, but Stan and circumstance hasn’t been very forthcoming. 

Even now, it’s only coincidence that they have the Mystery Shack to themselves. A surprise visit to the Shack and with Soos, Melody, and Abuelita on a trip to see Melody’s family. 

The scrape of chalk against the blackboard, temporarily derails Ford form his task. He can’t help but eye himself from behind. It’s one thing to see himself in the mirror, it’s another to see an exact copy of himself. His copy is dressed lightly in a yellow turtleneck and sweatpants. Ford runs his eyes over the copies shoulders and his bare feet. 

It’s a good look. No wonder Stan sometimes can’t help but be a little more handsy when he’s dressed more casually. Perhaps he can have his copy model a few other looks for him, so he can figure out what looks best and use that data for Stan-

His phone vibrates again. 

Right, of course, that’s why he stepped away from the chalkboard. 

“How odd,” he says aloud when he sees the message. “Stan sent us his location? And he’s in the middle of the woods…”

Ford checks the location again. His GPS does not lie when it says that the cell phone is not located in the Mystery Shack, but outside and getting further. 

He pulls up the most recent messages. 

“Ford.”

His copy lifts his head from the blackboard to look at him. 

“Stan’s having a memory relapse and has run away from the Mystery Shack.”

The copy’s face grows steadily more horrified with each word.He quicky hurries over to look at the phone. 

“Then we have to go find him,” he says, face serious. 

Ford nods. “Luckily, Stan’s copy is with him. The location that we’re receiving should be accurate.”

“Good.”

And with that they throw on some clothes and rush out the door. 

They don’t have any transportation to make it through the woods, so they have to go on foot. The sun is setting and the air is growing colder. Suddenly the forest that they’ve lived in before seems vast and unwelcoming.

However, they need to reach Stan. This isn’t the first time his brother has had memory problems. A turn of a phrase or a sound can have his brother going back in time, or even forgetting who he is. But they’ve been lucky enough in the past that each incident had occurred on the Stan O’ War. As long as Ford kept calm and didn’t cause a panic, Stan always regained his memories. The only other time in which they were not on the boat, Stan stole the boat (with Ford on it) to make a get-away.

And now he’s in the forest of Gravity Falls? 

Who knows what sort of trouble Stan could get into.

-000-

“Haha! Who’s next?” 

The manotaurs cheered Stan on, as his opponent slinked away in shame. No one stepped up to the table, already catching on that betting against Stan was a bad idea. However, it would be easy enough to goad some of them into another game, all Stan had to do was poke at their masculinity-

The sound of an alarm went off in the cave. 

All the manotaurs started to hoot at once. 

“Time to take on the Pain Hole!”

They gathered towards the clearly marked hole and started to stick their appendages in. Clearly, they were competing to see who could stay the longest, even if it meant they were yelling in pain the whole time. 

“Yeesh,” Stan says. “And you guys do this for fun?”

“Of course!” One of the manotaurs says, beating a fist against his chest. “It’s a good way to show WHO’S THE MAN-OTAUR!!!”

He ended the last part in a roar which started another round of hooting. 

Stan sent a look towards Ford, who nodded back. They discreetly made their way out of the cave. When they were a good distance away, Stan pulled his winnings out of his pockets. Mostly it was odds and ends, interesting stones or bottle caps, but they were Stan’s so of course he was going to take them. Maybe he could display them at home-

He got a thought of someplace warm, with soft lighting. The smell of salt and something sweet in the air. When he chased the memory it faded away. Stan tried not to get frustrated, but it was getting difficult with each passing moment without his memories. 

At least he wasn’t going through this alone. Ford was following his lead, giving him the space he needed to process things. He would probably ask for help soon, after he had a little more time to think. 

Yup, that was exactly what he was going to do. He wasn’t worried about what he forgot at all. (Except that Stan had seen odd scars on his body that didn’t lead him to the conclusion that he didn’t lead a good life. And the way he  _ ran away  _ from a warm place to go into the middle of the woods wasn’t reassuring.) 

Anyways, there was plenty to do right now. The forest was weird, sure, but it was exactly the distraction he needed. 

“Come on, what else is around here?” Stan asks Ford. 

Ford makes a soft ‘hm’ noise, while tapping his chin. “I do believe that the gnomes are around here?”

“Gnomes? Like those garden things, with the hats?”

Ford nods. 

“Okay, yeah, this I gotta see.”

-000-

“Why are they heading towards the gnomes?” CopyFord asks. 

Ford doesn’t know and he’s not inclined to answer, although he’s sure his copy asked that out of frustration and curiosity. They’ve been following a bizarre trail through the forest trying to find the Stans. The Stans have taken some odd meandering route, meeting up with the supernatural at every turn. They’ve just missed them at the manotaurs (almost walking into the Pain Hole ritual) and now they’re going to see the gnomes?

“Well, maybe if we’re lucky they’ll be captured by the gnomes and we can go rescue them,” Ford says. At least that would keep them in one place. 

His copy snorts. “If only.”

But even before they approach the gnomes they start to hear sirens and yelling. The Fords share a look. They go into a run. Perhaps they would have to stage a rescue. 

It’s pandemonium in the area, creatures running away, while smoke is starting to come through the trees. Luckily there doesn’t seem to be any fire, but there’s very little else that could cause such a panic. They’re about to burst out of the trees when they see very familiar flashing red and blue lights. Gnomes wearing police uniforms crawled all over what was surely a crime scene. 

“Only Stanley could attract the attention of so much law enforcement even without his memories,” his copy muttered. 

“Agreed,” Ford says, dryly. 

They consult the GPS and it looks like the Stans are not in the middle of the mess, but are making a get-away. Sneaking away, Ford wonders what could they have done to cause such mayhem. 

-000-

“Wow, she is a beauty,” Stan says. “Why did they have her?”

“Mmhmm, she is. Gnomes get their hands in everything,” CopyStan explains. And while he’s seen the gnomes steal everything they can get their hands on, he is puzzled on how they managed to take such a beautiful motorcycle. It even looks like it’s been modified to go off-road. He’s a little worried that Stan will want to take her for a ride. If he wasn’t babysitting, then he would want to do the same. 

The cellphone in his pocket buzzes. 

While there are quite a few people with this number, there’s very few people who would be messaging him in the middle of the night. He doesn’t pull the phone out right away, instead waiting until Stan is admiring the bike, before looking around. He spots the Fords in some bushes. 

“I’ll go do a perimeter check, Stanley,” he calls out. He holds back the urge to cough. Doing the Ford voice is horrible, he’ll be happy to going back to his own voice when this is over. 

Stan grunts an affirmative and he goes over to the Fords. 

“Who’s the copy?” He hisses. 

The one not-holding the cellphone points at himself. 

“Okay,” he says, then quickly tosses the phone to CopyFord. The actual Ford lets out a small ‘hey’ before he’s distracted by the Stan that’s stripping in front of him. 

“Quick, switch clothes with me,” he says. 

Ford catches on, and they switch jackets. As soon as he’s changed, Ford is shoved out of the bush with his phone again. 

“That was a quick perimeter check,” Stan says. 

Ford coughs, “Well, I suspect everyone is distracted by the ruckus you- we caused.” 

“Damn straight they are,” Stan readily agrees, not noticing the slip. He’s too distracted by the bike. Ford shouldn’t be jealous, but between losing Stan and the abrupt change in their plans, he thinks he’s justified. 

His brother straddles the bike and revs it. Figures he would steal the key too. Ford eyes him and tries to be irritated, instead of intrigued. His brother is handling the motorcycle like an expert and the image he’s presenting is quite pleasing. 

“Get on,” Stan yells back to him, shooting a look over his shoulder. He’s grinning, without a care in the world. It stirs something inside of Ford. Really he should refuse and have Stanley come back to the Mystery Shack so he can recover. 

“This is highly unorthodox,” Ford protests, but he’s moving towards the bike. 

“Is this motorcycle even designed to ride the woods?” Ford continues even though he’s getting behind Stan. 

“Our best course of action should be to head back to the Shack, I insist Stanley,” Ford declares, even though he’s sitting on the motorcycle his arms wrapped loosely around Stan’s middle. 

Stan looks back at him with a smile. 

“What?” Ford snaps. 

“This is the first time time you’ve complained about anything all night,” he says. 

“Complain-”

“Whined, if you’d prefer.”

“Whined! Why-”

“I like it,” Stan says with such fondness in his voice that it stops Ford’s sputtering. Before Ford can gather himself, Stan revs the motorcycle and takes off. Ford automatically wraps his arms tightly around Stan. They speed off into the forest. 

A moment later, the copies step out of the bushes. 

“Did they-”

“Yes. I believe they left us here.”

Stan and Ford share a look. They have their location so they could track them if they wanted to, but they were on foot while the other two were on a motorcycle. 

“Did you go want to taunt the Hand-Witch?” Stan suggests. 

“Won’t she try to curse us?” Ford asks. 

“Yeah, but she could also curse the originals too, not us.”

For chuckles and so does Stan. “Sounds fun. I’ve always wanted to explore the forest more with you.”

“Yeah, it just wasn’t the same without you.”

-000-

The ride is a bit rough, but surprisingly they don’t fly off the bike. Ford suspects something paranormal, but it doesn’t matter at the moment. What does matter is that the scenery is flying past, yet Stan doesn’t crash into anything. (Ford definitely thinks there’s something abnormal about the bike, he knows how bad Stan’s eye sight is.) Eventually they reach the main road. 

Ford lets himself relax once they’ve left the deathtrap that is driving through the forest. 

Stan revs the motorcycle once more and they go even faster, taking turns at dizzying speeds. The wind whips through their hair, but it feels good. It reminds Ford of the time they were riding through a storm. It must remind Stan of something good too, because the man is clearly smiling. 

They drive on the outskirts of town and Ford watches Stan take it in. There’s no spark of recognition, but Stan keeps a respectful distance. Driving away, Stan goes towards one of the higher outcrops where they’ll be able to look over the town. It isn’t long before they can see Gravity Falls below them. 

Stan turns off the motorcycle and Ford gingerly gets off. His legs are a bit numb from the ride. Stan gets off too and they automatically go towards the edge so they can get a better view of the town. 

Ford spots a few changes here and there. It’s simultaneously a nostalgic and bittersweet sight. There’s something emotional about seeing Gravity Falls change. 

He looks towards Stan who has a puzzled look. 

“It’s nice here,” Stan admits. “I don’t know why, but I like it here.”

“Well, it was your home for awhile,” Ford murmurs. 

“Yeah? Huh, that would explain it.”

He turns back to the sight, drinking it in. Ford continues to look at Stan. Perhaps soon he’ll see the sight of Stan remembering. Maybe he’ll chuckle, embarrassed that he forgot. Or he’ll look at Ford in horror over the fact that he’s forgotten again. Or he’ll start glancing at Ford, finally gaining his memories slowly. 

The wind picks up and Ford shivers lightly. He lightly blows on his hands, trying to keep them warm. In the rush, neither he nor his copy had the time to wear gloves. He has to be careful, his sixth fingers are prone to getting numb if he isn’t careful. 

Stan picks up on the movement and looks towards him. His gaze is immediately drawn towards his six-fingered hands. 

Ford freezes at the attention, unsure how Stan will proceed. 

Stan simply grabs his hands and shoves them under his armpits. “You should have dressed up warmer, no need to have rushed on my account.”

They’re closer in this position and Ford can see how Stan is concerned for him, even though he has the bigger problems. 

Ford can’t help it, he leans in to give Stan a kiss. 

When Ford pulls away, he can’t get to far because Stan’s arms are around him. At first, Stan’s expression is bewildered. Ford’s heart sinks. The man had amnesia, kissing him was in bad form. 

But then Stan’s expression smooth and turns to wonder. “Oh,” Stan breathes out. “I remember.”

-000-

Stan’s memories have come back, but Ford is still hovering. He doesn’t do anything obvious, but Ford has a few tells: he keeps looking for escape routes and then realizes they only work for one, he maintains a very specific distances, and he keeps stealing glances at Stan (as if Stan can’t tell that he’s using a reflective surface to look at him, honestly). Stan just barely holds off rolling his eyes. However, they’ve done this dance enough times before that it’s always better to let Ford’s protective tendencies go, or Ford will resort to the big guns. 

Thank goodness the copies don’t hover. 

They’ve made it back to the Mystery Shack in one piece. Once inside, Ford tenses, and Stan can tell his brother is about to run around the Shack like a madman to ‘secure the perimeter.’ He’s honestly not sure what this will entail, since the only times he’s lost his memories has been on the boat. 

“Go take a shower.”CopyStan says, gently gives him a push towards the upstairs. 

“We’ll secure the perimeter,” CopyFord offers. Then before Ford can say otherwise, the copies go forth. 

Ford shoots them a look, but must trust them enough to leave them to the job. Then Ford turns all his focus to Stan. 

Great. 

Although, it’s probably for the best. Left alone, Ford would probably mount a sci-fi laser grid to the Shack if he was alone. (It had happened once on the boat. Once Stan had regained his memories, he had found that the Stan O’ War had been transformed, death rays included.)

CopyStan can probably control CopyFord. To an extent. Enough that he doesn’t have to worry about death rays. 

He shoves the thought out of mind, and comes to find the shower ready and waiting for him. Ford is testing the temperature and sends a worried glance his way. 

Stan starts getting undressed and Ford moves out of the way. He places his glasses somewhere safe, kicks some of his clothes off, and throws the rest in Ford’s face. Ford yelps, and Stan takes the chance to get in. 

The water is hot, just how he likes it and he takes a moment to enjoy the fact that it’s (relatively) limitless. His skin heats up, but he wonders if it’s from Ford’s gaze instead of the water. Even without turning he knows that his brother is looking over him closely. 

Stan sighs.

When Ford’s worried he likes to stare at the scar on his shoulder instead of admiring the fine manly specimen in front of him.

Stan should show him what he’s missing. 

He lets out a soft groan and Ford immediately rushes to his side. Taking advantage of Ford’s inertia, Stan quickly yanks his brother in, clothes and all. Ford stumbles over the side of the tub and Stan hoists him in and has him in a bear hug. 

Surprisingly, the first thing that Ford does is: absolutely nothing. 

Instead, Ford huffs in his ear and rights himself. He continues to lean into him and allows his arms to gently encircle Stan, returning he hug. Ford simply stands there under the stream of water, allowing clothes start to absorb the water. his glasses are digging into the side of Stan’s head. The only sounds in the room are the running water and Ford’s breath in his ear. 

Eventually, Stan realizes that Ford is still wearing his boots. Slowly, he pulls away. 

“Go take your boots off, you’re getting the place filthy,” Stan jokes weakly. 

Ford nods and dutifully strips. His clothes, including his boots, go into a wet bundle on the floor. His glasses go next to Stan’s. Then he gently runs the water over the bottom of the tub until it runs clean. 

Ford takes a step closer. 

This is a quieter and sadder Ford than Stan is used to. It’s a side of his brother that was probably hidden to him in their early years. And Stan has the impression that Ford often fell into melancholy in his thirty years away from home. The presence of the kids and all the drama of his return, has Ford being his usual talkative, nerdy self, but everyone once in awhile Ford will get like this. 

Ford’s incredibly close now, he doesn’t even need his glasses to look at the details of his face, his mouth, and his eyes. He stares openly, unashamed. 

Stan runs a wet hand over Ford’s face and hair, making the man sputter. His body had been blocking the spray, keeping Ford’s top half dry, but he moves now, soaking him further. 

Stan grabs the soap and starts creating some suds. 

Ford glares at him and grumbles. He grabs the shampoo and dumps it on Stan’s head. 

“Hey-”

“Shut up,” Ford snaps. “Let me do this.”

Stan shuts his mouth and lets Ford do whatever it is he wants to do, which is helping him shower. After Ford brushes his hands away several times, Stan lets him take over. His hair is washed and his skin is scrubbed. He’s getting a bit pruney, but he won’t stop Ford’s fun. As far as well-adjusted coping mechanisms go, helping another person shower wasn't too bad. 

Ford’s scrubbing turns into a gentle massage and Stan leans into his hands. 

Then Ford gets onto his knees in front of him. 

The difference between Ford standing in front of him and Ford standing below him doesn’t register. Then it throws him for a loop. He blinks, but Ford is still there staring up at him with unreadable eyes. 

“If I knew I was gonna get some, then I would have showered sooner,” Stan says. 

Ford shakes his head with a wry smile. “You wish. I’m simply doing a thorough job.”

True to his word, Ford continues to wash him with brisk movements. Although his hands may linger with care, the touch isn’t sexual. However, that doesn’t stop from Stan’s interest from rising (in a very literal way). A hand slides over the curve of his ass and Ford raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Go ahead,” Stan says with fake bravado. 

And Ford goes ahead, sudding up his hands before sliding his fingers between Stan’s cheeks. Stan has to grip the sides of the shower. It stops his hands from immediately going to Ford’s hair (and also keeps him from collapsing as his knees get weak). It’s a good idea, because Ford seeks out his entrance, running circles around it. 

Stan grips the tub harder. 

“Really, Stanley?” Ford says with a smirk. 

“Don’t call me ‘Stanley.’” 

He braces himself and after he’s secure, one of the Ford’s fingers slides inside him. The touch is teasing, but Stan doesn’t care about that now. What he cares about is that Ford’s other hand isn’t touching Stan, it’s touching Ford. The other hand is clearly working Ford open. Suddenly, the finger inside him isn’t enough. 

“Ford-” Stan bites out, but has to suck in a breath when he feels a second finger added to the first. The touch is no longer teasing, but a steady pressure inside him. 

Does he rock back against the fingers and try to find relief? Maybe press his hips forward and have Ford take his cock in his mouth? 

Ford curls his fingers and Stan moans. 

Definitely not enough. 

“Fuck, come on, Ford.”

“I apologize, did you want something, Stanley?” 

Stan wants to say argue or maybe agree, but when he sees the smug jerk on his knees, fingering himself, he knows that he doesn't want things to end so quickly. Stan swats Ford’s hand away and Ford retracts his fingers. The loss is frustrating, but not as frustrating as finishing this early. 

“Let’s get to a bed,” Stan says, pulling his brother up. 

“Okay,” Ford readily agrees. 

Hurriedly, they clean up and dry off. They leave their towels and their clothes for later. There are more important things right now. 

Stan gets to the bed, throwing himself on top of it. He’s spread out on his back, trying to take as much space as possible. 

Ford takes his time to get there, grabbing a bottle of lube and placing it atop of the nightstand. Then he gets on the bed, maneuvering himself so he’s above Stan. His hands are positioned so that at any time, they can hold Stan’s wrists in place. 

Stan doesn’t move, simply smiles up at Ford. 

“You’re enjoying yourself,” Ford says. It’s a statement, not a question. 

Stan shrugs, turning it into a stretch where he gently brushes against Ford’s body. 

“Good,” Ford says, before leaning in to give Stan a kiss. 

Stan leans into the kiss, pressing up against Ford. Ford grinds down onto him and Stan responds by pushing his tongue into Ford’s mouth. In moments, Ford’s tangled his hands in Stan’s hair, holding him close. Stan grabs onto Ford’s hips, rocking against him. Ford is hard against his thigh, and he brings a leg up to tease him. 

Making a tactical decision, Ford pulls away, immediately grasping Stan’s cock. 

“Fuck!” Stan startles, but Ford’s free hand is there to soothe him and force him to lay on the bed. The other other maintains a firm grip on him. He flexes his six fingers and Stan shivers at the movement. 

Ford gathers himself so he’s sitting in between Stan’s legs, their cocks almost close enough to touch. He begins to stroke Stan lightly, enjoying the feel of flesh in his hand. 

Stan’s hands flex on the sheet. Ford uses his free hand to grab one, intertwining their fingers. Stan’s other free hand goes up to clench at his pillow. 

Ford speeds up his hands and Stan’s hip bounce on the bed to increase the sensation. He’s thinking he should take advantage of the precum that’s starting to leak from Stan’s cock, spread it across the head and the shaft so he increase his speed, when there’s a knock on the wall. He stutters to a stop and they both turn to look. 

“You two have already started without us?” CopyStan asks. He’s already starting to strip and is stalking towards the bed. 

“Luckily, we caught you two in the early stages,” CopyFord continues. He closes the door and then also starts to remove his clothing. 

CopyFord comes up behind Ford and presses up against him. He snags the lube for himself. One six-fingered hand encircles Ford’s cock while the other teases his entrance, similar to what he was doing to Stan in the shower. In fact, the movements were exactly the same. It’s more arousing than Ford wants to admit and he finds himself breathing harshly at the touch. 

“That’s right, Stanford,” his copy says. “I know what you like. I know how to stroke you and your ego.”

Ford swallows. Perhaps only in this has he enjoyed the fact that he has six-fingers. It’s something he’s never admitted aloud. Having the words out in the open makes him heat up. He wishes it was due to the copies ministrations, but the heat travels across his body and makes him flush. 

A particularly rough jerk has him gasping. 

“That’s right, we know what you two like,” the copy says into his ear. 

Stan laughs and drinks in the sight of Ford being manipulated so easily. Ford often kept things close to his chest, sometimes without even realizing it. It was good to hear somethings confirmed for him. 

However, he stops laughing when CopyStan rolls a condom onto Stan’s cock. 

“Don’t want to melt in the middle of this, it would be a total mood killer,” the copy says with a wink. 

Yikes. The imagery makes him flag, but the copy’s skilled hand gets him hard in seconds. 

The copy chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you like. And you know that I’m the best at this,” he says, giving Stan’s cock a kiss. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of both of you,” Ford’s copy says. 

Then Stan’s copy smoothly slides lubed fingers inside Stan. The intrusion is rather sudden, but meets no resistance. 

“Ready for it, huh?”

“Then let’s continue.”

CopyStan pulls his fingers out, but keeps his hand there, cupping Stan’s ass. CopyFord grips Ford’s cock and brings it to Stan’s entrance. He rubs Ford’s cock in circles against Stan’s entrance. They both groan and jump at the contact. 

The copy brings Ford’s cock so it brushes against Stan’s balls and then his cock. The slide of skin against flesh is wonderful, but it isn’t what either of them need. His cock is guided back down and pressed against Stan. They line them up and Ford’s cock is worked inside Stan. 

Ford’s copy uses his other hand to hold Ford in place. He sets the pace, using his own hips to dictate when and how hard Ford should thrust. Slowly, Ford’s cock sinks into Stan. Ford groans at the heat and the gentle pace. Not being in control, not having Stan in control, is an experience he’s enjoying. 

Meanwhile, Stan’s copy has one hand fondling Stan’s balls while the other holds his cock in place. He’s lavishing attention to the head of Stan’s cock. However, they're light touches, teasing, and brings him no relief. Along with the slow pace of the cock that’s fucking him, Stan feels like he’s being opened up from the inside out. 

Stan’s is being filled inch by inch and it isn’t long before he can feel Ford’s balls brush against him. He must be close to bottoming out. 

Stan squirms, because his body aches. He knows what Ford’s cock is like, knows that he’s not completely filled. 

The copy that has his mouth wrapped around his cock hums and then starts in earnest on his cock. 

“Oh fuck!” 

There are lips tightly wrapped around him and an enthusiastic tongue lapping at the underside of the head of his cock. 

Ford stares at Stan’s copy and smiles. He knows first-hand how good Stan’s blowjobs are. Stan won’t last long.

Then Ford feels his copy move behind. The hard cock that has been pressed against him the whole time is shifting. There’s the sound of a condom being unwrapped and then- oh. His copy- his cock is pressed against his entrance. The cock is lubed and drawing the same circles that he did for Stan. 

He wasn’t that close before. Ford though he might even come before Stan, but the extra ministrations are enough to put him on edge. 

CopyFord grabs Ford’s hips. Then the head of the cock pushes pass Ford’s entrance. Ford let’s his head roll back so that it’s being supported by his copy. With a shift, the cock moves so that it pulls out just so, and the head pops out. The copy squeezes Stan’s hip then pushes them both forward. The head slides back in and Ford bottoms out in Stan. 

“Fuck!” 

Stan rolls his hips up. That final inch of Ford’s cock is exactly what he needed to come. His copy swallows his cock completely and cups his balls. Ford moves is shallow thrusts, barely pulling out. 

It’s perfect. 

“I’m coming,” Ford says breathlessly. 

Ford comes inside Stan’s warmth and around his own cock. And Stan can feel him twitching inside him, coming inside him. Ford fists his hands into CopyStan’s hair, keeping him in place, making sure that his mouth stays on Stan’s cock. 

When they’re both done, CopyStan withdraws. Stan jumps when the copy teases his sensitive cock. Then CopyFord pulls away, and Ford groans when he feels the cock slide out of him. They can’t move, can barely think, and can feel themselves getting tired. It’s been a long day and the sex was good. 

The copies clean them up, throw a sheet over them, and turn off the light before slipping away. 

Ford feels as if he should keep an eye on them, but doesn’t want to move, especially when Stan was starting his tradition of being an octopus post-coitus. Stan moves around until Ford is laying Stan’s side, his head pillowed on Stan’s shoulder. Stna brushes a gentle kiss against Ford’s hair. 

Ford wraps his body around Stan. 

“I love you, you know,” Ford says into the dark. 

Stan kisses his hair again. “I know. I love you too, thanks for coming for me.”

“Always.”

And with that they falls asleep. 

-000-

Stan wakes up with a snort, wondering what woke him. A split second later, Ford sits up completely alert. His brother looks around warily, but doesn’t react so it must be nothing serious. He’s about to go back to sleep, when he hears the sound of people moving. Stan rouses himself. Soos and the others can’t be back, can they?

Suddenly, Stan can tell he’s sticky and has bodily fluids flaking on his body. The sheets are a mess. Actually the whole room is a mess, there are just objects knocked everywhere, clothes strewn about, and the whole place smells of sex.  

Ford places a calm hand on his shoulder. “I’ll check it out,” he whispers. 

“Not without me,” Stan shoots back. 

No time to get dressed,They grab a weapon each and head to the door. With a swift kick, Ford has the door open and they both aim at the intruders. 

“Guys, seriously, you’re not even dressed?” CopyStan says. 

CopyFord gaze skims over them. “Now, now, Stanley, they just got out of bed.” 

Despite knowing that this was Ford, Stan moves to cover himself. After declaring their feelings to each other last night, it didn't feel right to give someone else a free show (even if it was Ford’s copy). 

“Eyes to yourself,” Ford snaps. Apparently he felt the same way. At least he threw something on before leaving the bed. 

The CopyFord looked away, while CopyStan snorted. “We’re heading out,” the Stan said. 

“What? Where?” Ford asks, shocked. 

The copy shrugs. “Away.” 

“We’re thinking about traveling the multiverse,” the Ford adds. 

“But- you’re my copy. I mean, haven’t you had enough of other dimensions?” Ford looks bewildered at the direction the conversation has turned. Stan, though, slowly nods. 

“Well, we won’t be bumping into each other then, if that’s the case,” he says. 

“Amen,” the other Stan says. 

“I- well, this is highly unusual-“ 

“Ford, let it go,” Stan says, grabbing onto his wrist. He gives his twin a tug back towards the bedroom. He shoots the copies a look. “Now don’t go robbing us blind.” 

The CopyFord solemnly nods, while CopyStan gives him a mock salute. They grab their bags (Stan is going to have to check what they took, he’s probably going to be missing some of his favorite clothes damnit) and head out. Their exit is rather anticlimactic, but Stan takes it as a sign that they should enjoy the downtime before the next adventure. 

He looks back at Ford who has an expression on his face that Stan can’t quite describe. Something between jealousy and sadness. 

“I bet they’re going to the XZ-Beta7,” Ford says, sounding petulant. 

Stan raises an eyebrow. 

“A highly sought out gambling dimension,” Ford clarifies. 

For a moment, Stan feels a rush of excitement before calming down. A gambling universe is only second place to the family he’s created. And the copies know that too. Stan wishes them luck and hopes they have a great time before their inevitable melting. (He hadn’t even considered they would survive the sex, but he’s glad for them.)

“Gambling is great and all, but I think we have a date with a bed right now,” Stan says, leading the way to the room. 

“Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: And here it is. If you've read both versions feel free to let me know what you think about the different versions. Was the longer one an improvement? Or did this version work well as a one shot?


End file.
